


And Bake Until Golden

by LadyKnightOfHollyrose



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: (just in the extra), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Baking, Cookies, Dorms, KuroDai Bingo 2015, M/M, Pre-Slash, References to Drugs, University
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-14
Updated: 2015-07-14
Packaged: 2018-04-09 05:58:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4336511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyKnightOfHollyrose/pseuds/LadyKnightOfHollyrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You’re baking cookies in the communal kitchen at 3am and I’m angry but also really hungry</p>
            </blockquote>





	And Bake Until Golden

**Author's Note:**

> For KuroDai Bingo - University AU
> 
> (Also based on the above AU from tumblr, which can be found here: http://graysoninthesky.tumblr.com/post/113813299554/inthebackoftheimpala-cliffnotesofanerd )

Daichi stumbles to groggy wakefulness, his neck aching from the awkward angle he’d slept in. When his hand rises to prod tentatively at his cheek, his fingers trace gingerly over an imprint of the corner of his text book.

He turns to check his clock, and yes, it _is_ still unreasonably early. His alarm isn’t due for another three and a half hours.

So _why_ has he been pulled from his (perhaps not comfortable, but still necessary) slumber?

He pulls himself upright and sets aside the thankfully drool-free textbook, brows furrowed.

Then he hears it.

Daichi can’t help the full body jerk that almost has him toppling from the bed as a metallic clang travels through his thin bedroom wall from the communal kitchen. It clears the last of sleep’s thick fog from his mind, leaving behind only sharp irritation.

Daichi heaves himself up with a grunt and makes for the door, before thinking better of it and doubling back to rummage in one of his draws for a moment. Out in the corridor, he’s glad of the protective layer of cotton that the addition of his socks affords him. (If there is one thing Daichi has learned about university halls of residence, it’s that you can’t trust the apparent cleanliness of _anything_. And that central heating is something to daydream about while on campus.)

Asahi’s voice mutters something about poltergeists in the back of his mind; Daichi dismisses the thought with a wrinkle of his nose and shoulders through the kitchen door.

He’s not sure what he was expecting when he’d first heard the racket from his bedroom. Maybe he’d see a couple of students drowning in a sea of empty glass bottles (and exam stress). Perhaps he’d catch one of the notorious fridge raiders red handed. Mostly he’d just been of a mind to make it _shut up_ , whatever it was.

The sight he is greeted with in reality is quite different, though in the grand scheme of things it probably shouldn’t surprise him.

Stepping through the door’s threshold, he’s first hit by the warmth tickling his cheeks and fingers, enticing him to fully enter the kitchen away from the cold. A quick glance to his right confirms his suspicion, but it since there are full baking trays in the oven he’ll hold off on pulling any fire alarms for the time being.

In fact evidence of baking is all over the counter, trays and tubs overflowing with freshly baked cookies.

The scent alone is enough to have Daichi’s mouth watering; it’s a very bad time to remember that he’s skipped dinner in favour of cramming and had only had a sandwich at lunch.

In the middle of it all is Kuroo Tetsurou, his torso bare and pyjama bottoms slung low on his hips as he mixes up what is presumably _another_ batch of sweet buttery goodness. His headphones are firmly over his ears, which would explain why there has been no reaction to Daichi’s arrival as Kuroo continues to shake a packet of multi-coloured chocolate chips to the beat of whatever he’s listening to.

(Though honestly, from what he knows of Kuroo an audience may not necessarily act as much of a deterrent.)

Daichi has a moment of weakness where he seriously considers just sneaking off with a box or two of the cooling cookies as punishment for being the cause of Daichi’s wakefulness at such unsociable hours. How many of them could he stack without toppling while still edging inconspicuously from the kitchen to his own room next door?

It feels like a physical effort to stop empathising with the state of his stomach as it attempts to devour itself for sustenance, and think like a rational, mature man not ruled by his hunger.

He pulls his eyes away from the deliciously tempting potential loot back to Kuroo’s bedhead, which is somehow even _more_ chaotic than usual. As he approaches, Daichi is tempted to allow his fingers to make the detour to smooth some of it down but manages to tramp down on the impulse. Instead, his hand lands on Kuroo’s shoulder in a light tap.

“Holy _shit_.”

Kuroo jumps, upending the remaining contents of the bag into the dough, his mixing bowl clattering noisily as it connects with the counter top.

Daichi almost feels _bad_ ; if not for making the slight twitch by Kuroo’s eye then for the amount of noise Kuroo had made. _Almost_. He tucks away the smugness he can feel reflexively edging onto his face.

Because there’s still something gratifying by how utterly aghast Kuroo looks.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Now that the bowl (and wooden spoon) has been safely placed to a side, Kuroo slides his headphones down to rest around his neck. Daichi can hear the faint beat pulsing from them as Kuroo eyes him, still startled.

Daichi’s brow rises. It’s the look that had once had his high school team mates sweating as they tried desperately to think of what they could have done to earn his ire. (Daichi would enjoy watching them scramble as Suga would chuckle, “Wow Daichi, you’re so mean to them,” before egging him on. Suga’s a terrible human being in disguise.)

It doesn’t seem to have quite the same effect on Kuroo; Daichi’s heard that Kuroo was the captain of his own team back in high school so it might be that he’s immune. More’s the pity.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” He crosses his arms. “It’s 3am. On a _weekday_."

“And weekdays are a bad time for cookies..?”

Daichi narrows his eyes. He may have lost a little of his steam since entering cookie heaven, but that’s not to say he isn’t still cranky. He’s certainly _not_ in the mood to be trifled with.

“You’re being too noisy. Some of us are trying to _sleep_ thank you very much.”

Kuroo hums under his breath, picking his bowl back up and continuing as though Daichi hadn’t interrupted. As though he’s come to the conclusion that Daichi’s no threat to his little baking sanctuary. “You sure you weren’t just lured here by the amazing aroma?”

Daichi lets out a frustrated little huff. This isn’t getting them anywhere. And while the aroma hadn’t lured him out of bed, it has certainly _stalled_ him.

He decides to change tack.

“Why on earth are you _baking_ now anyway? Do you not have exams and deadlines like the rest of us?”

Kuroo’s shoulders roll up into a nonchalant shrug as he turns his back to Daichi again, starting to spoon clumps of the dough onto his last baking tray. “I had a craving that wasn’t going away and it was a distraction that needed to be dealt with. So. Here I am.” He throws Daichi a smirk over his shoulder before waltzing over to the oven and swapping trays.

Daichi’s nose is hit with an onslaught of vanilla, sugar and chocolate. He never stood a chance, really.

The growl that Daichi’s stomach makes cuts through the quiet of the kitchen sounds like an angry tiger.

“ _Oh my God_.”

As much as he wants to, Daichi can’t tear his eyes away from the stare that Kuroo is pinning him with; it would feel too much like backing down, like admitting defeat (especially after that mortifying display).

Kuroo is the first to break.

It starts off as a quiet snicker, though this barely lasts a moment as Kuroo soon breaks into full blown laughter as he grabs the counter for support, the corners of his eyes crinkling in amusement.

Colour rises high in Daichi’s cheeks. He grumbles, shuffling his feet a little, but is unable to gather the energy for his previous ire. Instead, he finds a reluctant grin starting to crawl across his lips as one hand moves to self-consciously muss his hair.

“…Um.”

“Oh my God,” Kuroo wheezes as he attempts to get a hold of himself. “Okay I take pity on you; have a cookie and sate that beast in your stomach.”

Daichi doesn’t even pretend to put up a fight this time; he’s far too hungry.

(And anyway, he can still deliver his lecture after devouring half of Kuroo’s cookies. And a nap. And after stealing the recipe.)

 

\--

 

EXTRA:

 

“…Have you laced these with pot?” 

“Nope. But that’s an _excellent_ idea.”

“I don’t believe you. There is _no_ other way to explain how great these are.”

“W _ell_ if you don’t believe me I guess you’ll have to watch me make them next time.”


End file.
